


A Moment Along The Way

by Lizardbeth



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: sg_rarepairings, Episode: s04e01 Adrift, Episode: s10e13 The Road Not Taken, F/M, Missing Scene, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Evan Lorne meet again on the <em>Apollo</em>, but now, after her alternate reality trip, Sam discovers Evan is not the man she remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment Along The Way

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Stargate Rarepairings Ficathon, 2007 
> 
> for the Prompt: "Sam Carter/Evan Lorne, references to Road Not Taken, angst
> 
> Spoilers: Through SGA 4x03
> 
> note: I was poking through my older fic and realized I had never archived this piece here. So here

* * *

 

Sam knew the odds were not good for finding Atlantis quickly. She hoped otherwise, but as Bill had put it, space was vast, and they were looking for something very small.   
  
While she was waiting for the search to come up with something, she went down to the commissary to grab a snack. She crossed the room with her tray, heading for the empty table by the window, to wait for a view of the starfield whenever the ship emerged into real space again. It wasn't until she had nearly passed the table filled with four guys that she realized she knew one of them.  
  
Lorne noticed her also, and stood up. "Carter! Hey."  
  
"Hi," she smiled at him.   
  
For a second, she was looking at him but she was seeing the Evan Lorne from the alternate reality. He had claimed he and the other Carter had been just friends, but she hadn't believed him: not when she'd seen the worry when he'd rushed in after the explosion, the grief when he'd realized 'his' Sam was dead, and the way he'd held onto her hand a little too long when they said goodbye.  
  
Working with him more closely those two weeks had made her realize there was a lot more to Evan Lorne than she'd noticed at the SGC. He'd always been a cheerful presence on base and in the field, solidly reliable, sort of like the rocks he'd studied. Then he'd unexpectedly transferred to 302 training and gone to Atlantis. Whenever she'd seen him after that, he kept to his own crew, friendly but distant. She'd been saddened by the distance, but not surprised - long deployments changed friendships. But in the alternative reality, they'd been forced to work closely together. She'd found his serious side, a deeply thoughtful mind, and an astonishing painting talent.  
  
And somewhere along the way, he'd gotten ... cute. Much more attractive than she remembered from before. He'd always had an appealing easy confidence in himself, thinking back, but now he seemed... fitter. He was wearing the standard black t-shirt, but it couldn't possibly be regulation, not the way it was clinging to his shoulders and emphasizing the play of muscles in his arms and chest, as he went around the table to meet her.  
  
She yanked her eyes to his face, but that was no better. It took her a moment to find her voice. "I didn't know you were on board."  
  
"Yeah, I was leading the 302 squad," he answered. "We moved the big rock."  
  
"Oh. Well done." She bit her lip and invited, with a short gesture with her tray toward the window. "You want to have lunch with me? I'd like to hear about it."  
  
He looked startled by the invitation then nodded. "Sure." He grabbed his coffee and an apple from his tray, all that he had left of his lunch, and sat across from her. He held up the apple with a grin, "When I was a kid, I hated these things. Mom would put them in my lunch every single day, and every day I'd trash it. Now - they're little pieces of Earth."  
  
How had she never noticed what bright eyes he had? "You miss home a lot?" she asked.  
  
He shrugged and bit into his apple, finishing the bite before he answered, thoughtfully. "I wouldn't say a lot. But sometimes, when I think about living in a different galaxy. Being so far away, doing the crazy stuff we do..." his voice trailed off into silence and for a breath, he looked at his apple but without seeing it, his mind far away. Then he flashed a little self-deprecating smile. "I try not to think about it very often."   
  
But she didn't buy that at all. She might have before, but not after she'd discovered the other Evan had read the entire Book of Origin, seeking a different way to defeat his enemies. She wondered what Evan had done to try to find a way out of the Wraith problem. And then she wondered if he painted too, and what his paintings looked like.  
.   
When she was silent too long, he prompted, "Paging Colonel Carter?"   
  
"Sam," she corrected with a smile. "Please."  
  
"Sam," he said. And the way he said her name... tasting it, dragging out the 'a' a little. It was like a caress, and a little shiver went down her spine. "Anyway, congratulations."   
  
She had to clear her throat. "Thanks." God, what was happening to her?. How had she developed a schoolgirl crush on Evan Lorne since walking into the commissary?  
  
His smile faded for a concerned frown. "Is everything all right?"  
  
"Sure. It's just ... so many changes, you know?"  
  
"Not me," he pointed out with a grin. "I'm still the same old me."   
  
"That's true," she allowed with a teasing smile. "And thank God for that"   
  
His grin faded into a genuine pleased smile. The warmth of it stirred an echoing warmth in her chest, sinking deep into her belly. She watched his hands as he drank from his cup, then traced his swallow down his neck to his collarbone.  
  
Her mind treacherously went back to the Evan in the alternate reality. How different were they? And again, she wondered...  
  
So the question came out. "Do you paint?"  
  
He reared back, surprised. "Uh, yeah, how did you know? I mean, not that it's a secret, but ... I guess Sheppard told you?"   
  
So they weren't that different.  
  
There was no time like the present. As soon as they found Atlantis, assuming everything was okay, she'd be on her way back to Earth, and she just... wanted to know. She hoped she wasn't reading too much into his friendliness and the coincidence of an alternate version she wasn't even sure had been having an affair with her counterpart.  
  
"No, not Sheppard. Did you hear about when I was trapped in that alternate reality a few months ago? Before the Ori fell?" she asked.  
  
He raised his eyebrows at her, and made sarcastic air quotes, "And you say that so casually: 'trapped in an alternate reality.' But yes, of course it made the papers here."  
  
She couldn't help snickering at the thought of SGC newspapers -- surely they'd have to call it the Weekly Universal News -- but before she could speak, his amusement turned to concern, "You were gone a long time. I know SG-1 was worried about you."  
  
Obviously he had worried too. Worry for a friend, or did his feelings run deeper? Watching his face, she was almost sure. Almost.   
  
She went on, "While I was there, I met your counterpart. And he painted there, so I thought you might too. The realities seemed pretty closely parallel."  
  
He frowned, twisting his lips in a funny grimace. "That's sort of weird to know there's another version of me who paints, too. I stopped doing it in basic and only picked it up again when I came to Atlantis. I wonder why..." he trailed off, eyes turning toward the window with some shadowed thought, before he shook it off and leaned forward, all bright eagerness. "But still, this is fascinating; I've never heard about any alternate me's before. What else? What was he like?"   
  
"In the alternate reality, there was no Atlantis, and you were the CO of SG-1. My counterpart was a researcher. And... well... I got the impression the other Lorne and Carter had ... a thing. Together," she added, and watched him.  
  
He froze like a startled deer and fixed his gaze on his coffee cup, not daring to look at her. His tone was carefully curious when he said, "Really? That sounds ... like it was very different from ours." Then he looked up and smiled at her, very determined to be nothing but friendly, "I was on SG-1? That's cool."  
  
She'd never have seen the effort on his face, if she hadn't been looking for it. Even now, she hoped she wasn't seeing things that weren't there. But still, it made her ache inside, thinking that he might very well have been carrying this around for years, and never let it slip to her. No wonder he had requested transfer to Atlantis.  
  
But clearly she was going to have to make the first move, because he was never going to speak up.  
  
So she licked her lips and made sure no one could hear. Luckily the rest of the pilots had gone, and there was nobody close by. "Evan. Is it so different?" she asked quietly.  
  
He jerked as though she'd hit him and his eyes darted around, seeking escape, as if she was trying to trap him.  
  
She put out a hand and gripped his on the top of the table. "I ask, because - I don't know -- but ... if you felt - if you were interested, then -- " she halted her anxious babble and took a deep breath before starting over, "It's not that different for me. Going there, meeting the other you, showed me a possibility. And now I can't get it out my head," she admitted in a low voice, and added unsteadily, knowing she had to give him an out, "I know this must be weird. So if you don't want -- "  
  
He turned his hand over and tightened his grip on her fingers, silencing her. His eyes were now glued to hers, searching.  
  
She didn't look away, wanting him to see she was serious. Her stomach was suddenly tight and fluttery, and it was hard to breathe. She felt about sixteen, waiting for him to answer.  
  
"I ... want," he said roughly, and had to clear his throat. There was nothing tentative or 'friendly' in his gaze though. "I can't remember a time I didn't."  
  
"Really?" her voice sort of squeaked.  
  
He smiled at her, but when her cheeks flushed and she looked down, embarrassed, his thumb rubbed the back of her hand Slowly and with thorough attention to the fragile tendon, the touch implied that he might touch everything with such care. And that thought dropped all the way through her body, to lodge like a warm stone between her legs.   
  
When he spoke, her eyes focused on his lips. "Really," he answered.  
  
"That's good," she said, and had to lick her own lips as they went dry. "Colonel Ellis gave me a room, apparently. Isn't that lucky?"  
  
His chuckle was low, but he didn't let go of her hand. "You don't let much get in your way, do you, Sam?"  
  
She shook her head. "Nope. The minute the search finds Atlantis we'll have to get back to work. And that could happen any moment."  
  
"I guess we should hurry, then, though I'm not really at my best when I'm on the clock," he demurred, but his eyes and corners of his mouth could resist smiling.  
  
She smirked back. "I'll hold you to that." She pulled her hand free and stood up.   
  
For a moment he looked up at her, unmoving, until he murmured, "I'm hallucinating this, aren't I? Or some alien is fucking with my head. Because this can't be real."  
  
She moved around the table until the window support would shield them, then bent down and kissed him. God, she felt like she could just melt into him - his lips were warm and firm, and the gentle taste devolved into something hungry and needy. She pulled back before she gave into the temptation to touch him.  
  
"It's real," she whispered when they parted for breath. "Room 1132."  
  
And she walked away.  
  


* * *

  
  
She had only her tank top and panties left on by the time someone rapped on the door. Toggling the door open, she stood to the side so no one in the hall could see, as Evan slipped in.  
  
"Sam?" he called softly as the door swung shut. She punched the lock button and he turned toward her.  
  
She backed him against the wall. "I'm so glad you're here," she murmured, pressing against him.  
  
"Me, too," he answered against her lips, right before they came together. He felt like everything she had always wanted, and she wanted more - deepening the kiss, to taste the lingering apple taste of him. She didn't care that her lips were abrading themselves on his stubble, she just wanted more: more of his tongue on hers, more of his mouth, more of her hands on his tight shoulders and biceps.  
  
More of his hands on her back and on her ass, pulling her tight against him. He wedged a thigh between her legs, so she wanted that too. She rocked against it, feeling how her movements were stirring him too.  
  
His mouth left hers to kiss her cheek and neck, murmuring into her ear between tasting her, "Oh, Sam, God, you smell so good..."  
  
She grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and off. But she didn't have long to admire what she'd laid bare, as he did the same, lifting her tank top over her head. When her hands were momentarily held by the shirt and she couldn't see, a hand stroked swiftly up her ribs to cup her breast, pushing it upward to meet his warm, moist mouth.   
  
She shuddered, arms above her head limply forgotten, as his lips sucked her and his tongue teased the hard point. "Evan... you..."   
  
He took her half-formed words as a request to switch sides, and she tensed in anticipation as he kissed across across her skin, before seizing her other nipple in his lips.  
  
As arousal coiled inside, she bit into her shirt, quieting a louder moan as his thumb rubbed the side he'd sensitized, goose-bumps breaking across her arms, even though she was feeling warm. Impatient to see, she stripped off the shirt and watched, biting into her lower lip as the tip of his tongue circled her nipple, like a particularly erotic paintbrush. Someday she'd have to get him to paint on her with something edible and then follow all the brush-strokes with his tongue.  
  
The idea strengthened the tingle between her thighs and she pushed against his leg, seeking relief. But it wasn't enough. She put one hand in his hair, sliding the strands along her fingers, and then tugging him away. "Bed," she requested hoarsely.   
  
Sam moved backward, aware of his eyes fixed on her, dark and hungry. His gaze slid from her face down to her heated and throbbing breasts, her stomach, to the triangle of yellow satin. She wondered if he could see how wet she was already, how much her clit ached for his touch.  
  
He opened his pants and dropped them on the floor. And her gaze dropped lower as well, to the fullness behind his underwear and she licked her lips. Then, somewhat smirking, he hooked his fingers on his underwear and pushed them down too, stepping out, to stand naked in front of her.  
  
Much like the rest of him, his erection was compact and stocky, but beautiful in its lines as it jutted proudly forward.   
  
When her eyes finally went back up to his face, she smiled. "My turn?" But when she put a hand on her panties to take them off, Evan was suddenly there.   
  
'"I'll do it," he pushed her hands away. The cloth and his hands slid from her hips all the way down her legs to her ankles but somehow it was watching him sink to his knees in front of her made her pulse jump. She stepped free and expected him to rise, but instead he caressed her up the insides of her legs.  
  
"So beautiful," he murmured, between kisses on her stomach and swirling his tongue on her navel. "More than I imagined. I just - I want to touch you everywhere."  
  
Widening her stance to give him room, her legs trembled as his hands came together at the top. His fingers gripped her thighs as his thumbs probed between, opening her vulva to dip into her wetness. But it was the feel of his breath, a soft breeze following his hands, that made her shudder. Her hands found his head, trying not to clutch at his hair.  
  
"Back. To the bunk." But her body refused to listen to the request and move away from his hands. Especially as the flat of his hand pressed along her curls, and his thumb pushed up inside her. The unexpected movement and pressure on her clit made her jerk and push her hips into his grip, as a breathy cry of his name demanded more.  
  
But he pulled away, and pushed her gently back until her calves touched the edge of the bunk, and her legs folded. "I don't want you to fall," he murmured in explanation, when she glared at him for stopping.  
  
As she lay back on the narrow bunk, she wondered if it was enough room for them. When she spread her legs, she had to lift one against the wall to have room for him between.   
  
But then his touch came back, and all that mattered was getting those gentle and yet skillful fingers to wet themselves inside her, and then rub at her swollen clit. She arched her back as Evan found the perfect pressure, stroking her nub while he watched her face intently. She wanted him to kiss her until the rhythm caught her, and the electric warmth growing under his fingers took all her attention.  
  
Her body tensed up, then loosed, as waves broke through her. Catching her breath, she grabbed his shoulders, to tug him upward. "Evan, please," she urged.   
  
She reached down his body, sliding her hand across the flat stomach and questing for his cock, wanting to feel it and make sure he was ready. His erection was firm, but hardened under her grasp as she pulled at him, delighting in how she could make his eyes dilate into pools of shadow. His mouth slackened, concentrating on her touch.  
  
Then he blinked and lowered himself to trap her hand between their bodies. "Stop," he said hoarsely. "If you don't stop, it's gonna be all over. And I don't want to have our first time end like this."  
  
Pulled her hand back, she lifted her legs in invitation. "Then what are you waiting for?"  
  
"Sam, how can you be so beautiful?" His voice was a low growl, as his hand groped between them. His fingers splayed her open, holding her still, as the head of his cock slipped. But he found the right place and pushed inside. "So amazing... so incredible..." But his voice stuttered to stop, as his breath got away from him.  
  
She tucked her legs around him, bringing him closer, as her walls spasmed on him while they stretched. "Oh, yes," she murmured, "yes, Evan, please, more..."  
  
His eyes were shut tightly, his face a mask of concentration, as he shifted his weight forward to his arms. She gasped as his cock sank deeper, filling her, until there was no space left between them. They were sealed together, with what felt like his whole weight against her clit.   
  
Sam had to close her eyes too, biting her lip against the sounds that welled up in her throat and wanted to escape as he moved.  
  
Clutching his shoulders, she urged him on, feeling the kernel within, growing hotter, but winding tighter and tighter, threatening to break something. And it was so close to pain, she almost wanted to pull back, but it was the best kind of feeling, teetering on the edge of the blade.  
  
Then it broke over her, suddenly shattering through her, and her whole body jerked uncontrollably. She cried out, and she heard him swear, "Jesus, Sam."  
  
He put his head down and thrust rapidly to finish himself, but every push sent a jolting aftershock through her nerves, until the strength left her arms and her hands fell to the sheets. She gave a gasp, flashes behind her closed eyes each time, until his rhythm faltered into spasmodic jerks.  
  
Their breathing had slowed to something more normal, when she opened her eyes. Strands of his hair were wet with sweat, and she watched one droplet collect and fall to her chest.   
  
His arms were quivering, and she reached up to his shoulders again, this time to coax him down atop her. He let out a deep sigh as he settled on her. "You okay?" he murmured.  
  
"You're not going to squish me," she reassured him. He was still taking most of his weight on his knees and the elbow he had to one side of her, so she was left with the feel of his damp skin on hers and his cozy warmth, like a heavy blanket shielding her from the cool air of the room.  
  
It was with some languid delight that she let her fingers roam across his back and up to the nape of his neck.  
  
"Wouldn't want that." He turned his head to lazily kiss the middle of her chest, pillowing his cheek on her breast.  
  
"Y'know, if that's an example of you not at your best, I think I'm going to fall apart when we have more time," she teased, with a soft smile.  
  
His chuckle was a deep sound that made her ribs vibrate sympathetically. "I try." Raising his head to look into her face, there was something serious and deep in his face that she couldn't bear, "Sam, I --"  
  
She put her finger over his lips. "Hush. Who knows what will happen when we find the city? Maybe I'll have to go home to Earth, maybe you'll have to go out in the 302s against the Replicators. Maybe we'll be both die. I don't know. I learned a long time ago in this job that we can't make promises. We can only live in the moment."  
  
Evan paused as if he might disagree, but as he traced her lips with a butterfly touch, he said, "It's a pretty good moment. I'd like to stay here."  
  
"As long as we've got," she promised, and pulled him down for another kiss.

* * *

  
  
Sam was not entirely surprised when she walked into the Atlantis gate room that Evan wasn't there. She knew he'd be in the infirmary, after a piece of shrapnel had cut him across his ribs, but she'd hoped to see him anyway. Even while she'd hoped to put off the inevitable meeting as long as possible.  
  
She gave her little speech, suffered through Rodney's greeting and Ronon's challenge, and then knew she had to face him.  
  
In the infirmary, he was reading a paperback book when she came in. She quietly asked the nurse to leave them for a minute. In the moment before he noticed her, her eyes roamed his body. His white hospital shirt or maybe the bluish lights made him look pale, and though she couldn't see the bandages, she knew where they were -- on his left side, where a sharper piece and six inches the other way could have killed him.  
  
Her hands clenched at the effort to push the thought away. She couldn't think like that -- he couldn't be any different in her consideration from Sheppard or Rodney or Cadman. If she couldn't manage controlling herself, she'd lose him anyway, back to the SGC.  
  
Inhaling a deep breath, she tried to make her voice level. "Hey. How are you doing?"  
  
His face betrayed no surprise at her presence. He carefully folded down one corner and closed the book before looking up. "Colonel, welcome aboard. I'd be out of this bed already, except Doctor Keller won't let me."  
  
And the politeness hurt. God, it hurt. Even knowing that he was right, and they couldn't keep on the way they had.  
  
Sam wanted to touch his hand, but she didn't. Instead she looked down at him, all the things she wanted to say caught in a big lump in her chest. "I... I wanted to tell you that this wasn't my choice," she murmured. "It was the best compromise General O'Neill would get the IOA to accept."  
  
"I understand," he said. Then he gave a little pained smile. "I should've known it was all too good to last."  
  
She swallowed, "You're not ... not going to ask for transfer are you? Because even though this is sort of awkward, and we can't do anything - I need you here, Evan. You're one of the best resources this city has, and I don't want my command to chase you away."  
  
The pause was long enough to send her heart racing, but finally he shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"Good." After checking to make sure that no one had come in, she looked at him again. He had a curious frown on his face, wondering what she was doing.   
  
Sam leaned closer and whispered, "Because this moment isn't going to last forever. Just hold on a little longer."  
  
She pressed her lips to his, a warm tangible promise of someday. He kissed back, eager, giving her something to remember in those long cold nights when duty kept them to separate rooms.  
  
Then she tore herself away and fled the infirmary to find something important to do, before she forgot herself altogether.  
  
 _end._


End file.
